


Naked in the Moonlight/Forbidden Scent

by hernameisnotknown



Series: AU Wend [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Solas - Fandom, Solavellan - Fandom
Genre: Demisexual Solas, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, NSFW, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension, Smut, Solas Smut, Solavellan, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 22:56:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4979836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hernameisnotknown/pseuds/hernameisnotknown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wend and Solas have had a rocky start - on top of his hesitance in general, Solas continues to push Wend away, refusing to let their relationship become more intimate. Time and again, he denies them both, until one day a chance encounter with a Dalish leaves Wend with a blessing he simply can't tolerate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Naked in the Moonlight/Forbidden Scent

* * *

“Solas…” she sighed, sound fleeing abruptly as his lips covered hers. Her hands clasped his coat, anchoring her to him, her body snaking closer into his waiting arms. But before any more could happened he jerked away, his soul smarting guiltily at wounds her hands had opened. He couldn’t do this.

“I-” he bit his lip, only now realising that the strength of one of her hands on his collar was undiminished. She stared at him through half-lidded eyes, brows lifted, not fully accepting his withdrawal. “We shouldn’t.” He looked around, the camp was still empty, with the other members of their party off to town to buy supplies, the fire flickering beside them, enhancing her beauty. But he had to find it in him to resist. “Not here.” _Be honest, at least._ “Not now.”

She released him, dropping both her hands and her eyes, scooting away. Pain pierced him as he read into the expression he had seen for only an instant before she’d looked away. He didn’t want to hurt her. He knew what Cole had said about the hurt from her past, “He was her first, and afterwards he sneered. _‘I took the only thing of value you had to give._ ’” It must be hard for her to even let him this close after such a betrayal, let alone experience rejection once more.

He reached for her, hand tracing the full curve of her jaw and then her lips, resting there as her eyes slowly rose to rejoin his. “I’m sorry,” he said it like a confession, a prayer to a goddess, begging: _forgiveness, forgiveness_ , “I…” He looked away.

She caught his hand, then kissed it. “No need to explain, Solas. I’d never want someone who isn’t 100% into me, anyway.” She stood, heading for her tent, and he sat, eyes wide, stunned in the wake of her absence. That wasn’t it at _all_. He shook his head, rising to follow her, but something in him made him reconsider. He stopped short. He couldn’t. He repeated it to himself like a mantra as he stared miserably in the direction of her tent. He just _couldn’t_.

– – – – – – – – _2 months later..._ – – – – – – –

She undressed, dropping pieces of armour haphazardly, throwing her underclothes unceremoniously behind her as she stepped into the water, easing in to the waist before she bent her knees and began to swim. She had put her hair up to prevent her catching her death when she returned to camp with wet hair, so she was careful to keep her head above water, which is why she spotted him first. She froze, staring at him until he too realised he was not alone. He stilled, his eyes sweeping her, realising other things as well.

 _What was she doing here, in,_ he swallowed, _**no clothes** , tonight? _His hands moved hesitatingly against the water, unsure whether to push him closer or father away. _  
_

_What was_ he _doing here, in -_ she hoped _\- his smallclothes? Tonight, of all nights?_ She hadn’t brought him with her to the Hinterlands - Dorian, Varric, and Cole were all asleep back at camp. Bumping into _him_ , so far from Skyhold, alone, here, was such a shock she almost sank beneath the surface. It could have been anyone else sharing this lake with her, a local, a giant fish, but _him_? The full moon swelled above them, it’s rippling reflection the only imaginary barrier between their bodies.

“What’re…” she trailed off, unable to articulate sentences as he swam ever so slightly closer. “Wha…” she added breathlessly, giving up and looking at him desperately. He smiled easily at her, stifling a heady laugh that after only two notes managed to send jolts throughout her body.

“I imagine the moon called to us both. This was the nearest lake not frozen over… I felt like indulging in something… foolish.” He’d managed a smile that was anything but easy, trying to calm the quickening rise and fall of his chest before it became obvious, but the beat of his heart had risen to a crescendo only he could hear. Seeing her, like this, blushing, bathed in moonlight, a braided crown of silver hair… He’d never seen her wear that style, but it was much like an ancient Arlathan style he had always rather liked the look of, and it made him want to close the space between them all the more. He broke eye contact, trying to shake the image of her from his mind before she affected more of his body than she already had.

“I’m sorry if I frightened you.” He could tell that she was struggling with words, but he couldn’t think any more clearly than she could, he was sure - he just happened to be better at bluffing.

“Ah…” she exhaled, “Um, I… yes, you’re right. The moon. Called. I-” she noticed how close they’d gotten and shifted her weight to backstroke. He got one tantalising glimpse of her breasts before she realised she’d exposed herself and sank back into the water abruptly. “I… Maybe…? I should go…? Should I go?”

“I-” he paused, seeming to debate with himself, until finally he returned her gaze. “I think that would be for the best.”

She had to consciously stop her body from drawing close to his under the water. It was like they were magnets - only he didn’t seem affected. Absolutely no sign of any struggle marked _his_ face, but she was having such a hard time resisting his pull that she could hardly control her whole body, let alone the minute muscles of her face. She was certain the whole thing was playing out upon her features for him to read, clear as day, and she _had_ to get away. Especially since he gave no indication of caring either way. Lucky for him, he was cool as ice, but she certainly wasn’t. _Creators_ , he must feel nothing for her!

“I should-” she blushed, but this time from humiliation. “Go, then. I’ll just-” she circled in place, swimming as far and as quickly as she could, missing the look of remorse that shattered his mask as soon as she’d turned away. He’d done it _again_. Was there nothing he cherished that he wouldn’t lay waste to? He’d lost all will for swimming, and, after making sure to turn his back while she exited and clothed herself, and waiting what he assumed was a long enough time for her to return to camp in mortification, he swam to shore.

She’d gotten dressed, glanced forlornly at his back - pointedly turned to her - and finally faced camp, about to leave… when something in her told her to stay and just… watch. She was so used to trusting her own intuition, she didn’t even give it a second thought. After all, what was the worst that could happen? Nothing. She would just get a few more minutes of him, which she had to admit was something she wanted.

She watched as he drew close to the shore, as he gained his footing and began to walk out of the water, shoulder high, waist high, knee high… _Oh_. Her breath caught, and then released in a hundred speeding inhales and exhales until she was nearly hyperventilating. It had all been a facade, a _pretense_ of indifference, for undeniably, there he was, as erect as he could possibly be- although, strangely, he paid it no mind… _Maybe_ , she deliberated, it meant nothing. She was a woman, it would have happened to any man who stumbled upon her, swimming naked in the moonlight. But, and her eyes trailed back to him, she had a feeling it wasn’t _just_ that. She stood, still as a doe sensing danger, as he bent to grab his clothes.

Solas was furious at himself, yanking up his pants, refusing to acknowledge his arousal, refusing to allow himself pleasure when all she’d gotten was another excuse to push him further away. She’d already been neglecting choosing him to accompany her, even when he advised her it was best he did. Only when he insisted that he was coming, and didn’t give her any choice, did he ever get to spend time with her now, and even then, she never spoke to him without him initiating. He, and the yearning groaned within him, pressing harder against the folds of his robes, _missed her_. And all at once he couldn’t do this. He jerked his pants down to his ankles, kicking them off, and turned to look in the direction she’d gone.

His hand encircled his shaft as he stared after her, wishing she would turn around and come back to him. As if getting inside of her walls had been easy to begin with. She’d spent almost half of her life alone, running from relationships, building her walls as high as she could, and yet, she had let him in. And he had ruined it. His hand tightened painfully, the water glistening as he pulled towards the tip and his body reacted with a thrust of his hips that sent him back down to the base. He’d spent so long resisting her, certain it was for the best. But the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. Before long, if he wasn’t careful, he’d send her right into someone else’s arms. His thrusts became frenzied as he pictured her upon him. No, he couldn’t stand the thought of it. She would be his and his alone.

She almost ducked, instinct overriding her insistence that she remain statuesque, for she knew that if she so much as breathed wrong he would know she was there, and that was the worst thing she could imagine. She didn‘t think he would ever forgive her. She should have known better! Of course, he always projected this air of calm nonchalance, but underneath he… she blushed as she realised she had not looked away. He was still standing, both hands on his… she almost laughed, hand rising to stifle it as she discovered she wanted to call it his _second staff._ Jokes aside, the look on his face was so keen and ardent it set her body quivering. The thought crossed her mind that she could join him, but no… she _couldn’t._ She wasn’t so bold- she wouldn’t be able to handle his continued presence if he rejected her _again_. She would just have to follow his example, alone in her tent, as soon as she returned to camp. For now, she couldn’t pull her eyes away.

His hand slid over his chest while the other worked, even as he silently berated himself. She had trusted him, kissed him, let herself be vulnerable to him, yet he never failed to disappoint her, to push her away, to prove himself unworthy of the way she had let him past her walls where no one else had been for over a decade. So he made himself a promise, hands tightening as he neared the peak, he would scale those walls now. She had closed herself off from him, perhaps forever, unless he proved he would do whatever it took to be worthy again. He would climb those walls, make her see that he cared, and he would do his best to never hurt her again. His cry of satisfaction caused a stir from the local wildlife as he came, falling to his knees, hoping that soon it would be inside of her, not his own fist.

 – – – – – – – – _Five months later..._ – – – – – – – –

They were in the Storm Coast, had been for days, and their party was already at camp, setting up. They had broken off to stare at the sea like she liked to do, and he had caught them a few fish to pass the time. Now they were lost.

“I thought I knew this place so well.” She laughed self-deprecatingly, twirling the map in her hand like a baton, gesturing widely before unfurling it once again.

“Maybe she knows the way…” Solas remarked, waving down an elf with Ghilan'nain’s vallaslin upon her features as she approached.

Wend rolled the scroll back up, dropping it to her side and smiling at the newcomer. “Maybe she does.”

They discussed directions, sun positions, and distances, but the Dalish knew nothing about the camp they were trying to reach and so couldn’t guide them as they’d hoped.

“Well,” Wend sighed, “I think I have a better idea of where we are, at least.” She grinned at the elf before continuing, “I appreciate your help. Dareth shiral.”

“May the Dread Wolf never catch your scent.” The woman replied, turning without a second glance.

Wend nodded once, silently, in acknowledgment, watching her go only a moment before returning her gaze to the heavy lines on heavy canvas that detailed their surroundings. But Solas could not look away so easily, his eyes trailing her as she retreated further and further from them. Her words had cast a spell.

It was just a phrase - a _blessing,_ in fact, he thought sourly - and a common one amongst the Dalish - but something inside of him snapped at the sound of it, spoken to _her_ … His eyes flicked to Wend, to the way her hands traced the ridges of the paper, her eyes jumping from the map to her surroundings, the way her silver hair was tucked behind one ear, the way those awful, _beautiful_ marks accented her features- and his heart felt like thunder within him. Fire coursed through his veins, electricity across his skin. Her hand was so close he could feel the dent her aura left on his, and involuntarily his fingers curled in her direction, reaching. The thought that she believed him _indifferent_ \- as if she wasn’t all he thought of, despite himself - had eaten at him these long months.

He couldn’t bear it.

As soon as the woman was out of sight, he pounced. The map dropped from Wend’s startled hands, snapping into a tight scroll once more. The next moment he had her pressed against the nearest boulder. It towered into the sky and her eyes followed it up as he nuzzled her neck to breath her in, to… was he _smelling_ her? She lifted her chin higher as his mouth opened, tasting every inch of her he could, her own mouth gasping open at the sudden pleasure.

She heard an intense crack as his hand connected with the stone beside her head, magic wild and unfamiliar coursing from him, causing the rock to split. She couldn’t fathom what was happening, couldn’t think clearly as his tongue flicked against her, but she knew this was different than any magic she had seen him perform. There was something… _primal_ about it. His fingers sank into the silk of her hair, obliterating any attempt at thoughts, and the fissure he had created in the stone continued moving up, quicker and quicker, guided by his power.

A moment passed and another crack sounded as the boulder split in two. She tried to flinch away but he just pressed her more tightly against the stone, hands on either side of her, hips firm against her own. She could feel the length of him pressing into her, and her body reacted, heat shooting through her loins, both pleasurable and painful.

The boulder cascaded, breaking into smaller and smaller pieces as it fell, his magic the only thing shielding them from a crushing death. After a moment the rockslide had settled around them, revealing his plan: the stones were conveniently placed to shield them from prying eyes. They were in almost complete darkness, a tiny cave of their own, and the only light came from her palm, which was poised against the wall above her head. The green glow flickered, half-covered by her fingers as they varied between flexed and relaxed, entirely dependent on his ministrations.

She looked at him, smiling in wonder, and found a new intensity gazing back at her, one that set her burning. His lips claimed hers, and this time, she knew, there would be no stopping, no turning back. She opened her lips and, unknowingly, let the Dread Wolf take her.

His thrusts were measured things, hard and calculated as he watched, stare unflinching, as ecstasy contorted her features. She met his gaze, jealous of even his _false_ composure - for that’s what it was: a front. He was holding back, afraid of letting go - she felt certain of it... _and_ that she could shatter it. Without a moment’s delay she leaned forward, her lips and tongue trailing up his neck, slowly, to his ear, soft bites answered by the increased cadence of his hips against hers. She bit her lip, unable to stifle a low moan, deep and enticing, as it slipped from her lips to his ear. His breath hitched and his hand shot from her hip to grab her arm, jerking her away and pinning her hand against the wall. She smirked, glad at her success as she beheld how his own desire was now as apparent as hers.

He had lost control, rutting into her, his facade of nonchalance abandoned; all that pretence - that studied air of cold detachment - gone, replaced by eager, breathless intensity. He pulled in uneven gasps before falling upon her, his kisses wild and undeniable. Her body shivered, gooseflesh rising as he trailed down her throat once more, nipping, letting out moans and an array of elvish sweet nothings.

She could feel her climax building within her, and, from the fierceness of his grasp and the rampant movements of his body against hers, he was on the brink as well. She felt a prickling sensation raise the hairs on her neck before magic unlike anything she had ever seen exploded out of him, crackling against the wall where his hands were pinning hers above her head, jolting and vibrating into and against her where his thrusting was already making it impossible for her to do anything but sob his name. Even his eyes were glowing a dim and smoky blue, as if lit from within. All of this culminated in mingled screams of satisfaction as everything combined to push them over the edge.

He slowed, withdrawing from her, and she thought they were done as he eased her back onto her feet; she leaned in to kiss him with a contented sigh, but the fervor with which his lips met hers blew all such ideas clean out of her mind as he gripped her hips and spun her to face the wall. Without pause he was inside her again, his thrusts as frenzied and insistent as they had been before. Her hands curled beside her face as she tried to keep her knees from buckling.

He had come so many times she was _full_ of him, and yet he gave no indication of stopping. The added lubrication made her hyper-sensitive; every movement, every thrust, felt even more acute and she whimpered incoherently, gripping the sheer rock with her fingertips, one hand trailing down to grasp his hip as it pounded against her. His movements intensified in tempo until she was screaming again, but now, after all this time - after he had tried and failed to deny himself - now that he had had a taste… he couldn’t stop.

She had already given up holding her own weight, her legs so weak from him she couldn’t have supported herself if she tried, her feet hooked behind his calves, her only support the wall and the length of him moving within her. But he was nowhere near finished, so he let her slide with him down the wall of the makeshift cave until they were both on their knees.

She tried to stop her shaking, but it was all she could do as it was- her body was so weak with pleasure, she couldn’t have even guessed how long they had been at it. It didn’t matter, however, because he scooped her up by the hips, assuming full control, pounding into her with such ferocity she gasped. Her legs extended reflexively as another climax wracked her body and he howled against her, doubling over, that same power of his arcing over and around them as both of their voices echoed off of the rock before them and his harsh breathing filled her ear.

He lowered her back to earth, one of his hands reaching to gently tug her hair back behind her ear. She felt the pull and groaned, biting her lip, causing him to answer her with one final thrust as a similar sound passed his lips.

When he had finally stilled behind her, she mustered what little strength she had, easing fully onto her knees, rising up and twisting as she reached to pull him close. His lips met hers with tenderness, something he had not yet displayed, and she answered him with his whispered name, twisting to press herself against him even tighter. He eased himself out of her, laying her back as he continued to deepen the kiss, hands trailing over her body possessively, shocking a gasp from her lips as two fingers sank between her sensitive folds, causing her to tremble anew. He withdrew them after a moment of exploration, eyes studying her, seeming to relish her reaction with that same familiar calm. But she could see through this facade as well- behind it he was… _exultant._

He lifted his hand to her lips, painting the mixture onto them before he descended once more, tasting her as they tasted each other. She groaned into his mouth and he answered her, tongue darting within her before he withdrew suddenly, eagerly raising his hand to lap the rest from his glistening fingers.

He repeated this pattern again and again, dipping into her, licking it from her lips, going back for more, until finally he seemed to stop, trailing wistful fingers over shivering flesh as he admired her reverently. It made her heart flutter, the look in his eyes as he caressed her, as if she were something precious, holy, as if she were worthy of loyalty, love, worship. _His_ loyalty, love, worship.

“Solas, that was-” He raised a finger to her lips, silencing her, then shook his head. All at once he was on her again, rolling her onto her back, pinning her, sliding back until he was kneeling between her legs. He bit his lip and her breath caught.

“Oh,” he began, and the look in his eyes made a promise, “We’re not done.”

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Later, _much_ later, she lay in his arms. They were both too tired to move, too happy to care to, and she sighed against his chest before gazing up at him.

“Don’t let me go.”

He winced, the future, reality, finally flooding back into the little world he had made for them. His grip on her tightened possessively. “Even if you were a thousand worlds away from me, I would find you.” His hand rose to push the hair from her face, lips poised a breath from hers as their foreheads touched, “I have your scent.”

**Author's Note:**

> I headcanon that a little of Solas' ancient power is awakening in him by the time they finally get together, near the end of the story, and that it is heightened and activated when he loses control and/or is aroused, thus explaining why his eyes glow, etc. Also, he's been resisting for so long, and it's been thousands of years since he's been intimate with someone, so when he finally gives in and loses control, it's absolute.


End file.
